


if we are bold

by queenofpeace



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hallucinations, Hopeful Ending, Hurt Alec, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Poison, Spoilers for 2x17, Warlocks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-06 23:30:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11611212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofpeace/pseuds/queenofpeace
Summary: Alec felt a sensation of warmth drape across his skin, as if caressing his soul.Home, Alec thought,this feels like home.





	if we are bold

**Author's Note:**

> so this came out much later than I anticipated - it was supposed to be done before 2x18 but a lot of editing and two weeks without internet can really push deadlines back! i hope you enjoy it!
> 
> warnings are in the end notes.

×

 

 _We are weaned from our timidity_  
_In the flush of love's light_  
_we dare be brave_  
_And suddenly we see_  
_that love costs all we are_  
_and will ever be._  
_Yet it is only love_  
_which sets us free._

Maya Angelou – ‘Touched by an Angel’

 

×××

 

Patrols were easy and familiar, Alec mused as he clutched his seraph blade in the frigid night, watching the flashing lights of New York glisten against the backdrop of the night sky. The air was busy with mundane buzz as cars drove by and the echoes of drunken hoots were carried by the wind, the thrum of heavy music making the earth vibrate underneath Alec’s feet.

He stood glamoured in the shadows of the alleyway whilst the main avenue was casted orange underneath the streetlights. Across the block, the sounds of mundanes grew louder. The men were shouting and clumsily attempting to kick a beer can across the other side of the road; the women were singing and clad in nothing but short dresses, the alcohol masking the winter air. As they passed him, Alec could see them all stumble, their eyes hazy with drunken happiness and smiles like syrup.

Alec checked his phone. He couldn’t stand that Magnus was angry with him. With Valentine’s son, Jonathan, now in play and the soul sword still missing, Alec was finding it harder and harder to foresee his position getting easier, especially with the Clave breathing down his neck. But it was worse remembering the sting of Magnus’ words and the harsh lines of anger on his face. Alec had betrayed his trust and it made his gut twist in ways he hadn’t felt since he had first realised he liked boys far more than he liked girls.

It was why Alec was outside at midnight on the streets of Brooklyn with nothing but the cold wind, shadowed sky and loud mundanes to keep him company. He’d been patrolling these same back-alleys since he was a teenager, when he still believed in his parents, when he still believed in the Clave. Alec knew this place like the back of his hand. It was an easy distraction, and at least he could fool himself into thinking he was being useful instead of just sitting in his office, alone. Again, Alec looked at his phone. Still nothing. By the Angel did he feel like an idiot.

His thoughts were distracted suddenly by a loud crash behind him. Immediately, Alec lifted his bow and notched an arrow, his vision darting towards any movement. He could see nothing but darkness as he took a step forward. Adrenaline coursed through him as his heart pounded and the familiarity of it grounded him. There was a thrum of _something_ that made his body shiver, something that made the air crackle around him.

“Who’s there?” Alec tentatively called out. Silence replied. Alec breathed in deep and continued to walk into the darkness.

The alleyway stretched back further than Alec anticipated and the air continued to sizzle like popping candy in his ears. Only after a few seconds of deep concentration could Alec hear something being chanted, something in Latin.

Magic.

Suddenly out of his depth and with no backup, Alec dropped his bow to the side and tried to run. He thought about calling Magnus for a brief second, their fight be damned, but the damage had been done and the air very quickly turned hot and oppressive. Alec felt the oxygen being pushed out of his lungs and he collapsed to the floor, his knees cracking against the tarmac. He felt pressure like nothing else on his back and it made his spine creak. He wanted to scream, to run, but it was as if his body was being crushed by fire. His skin began to burn.

Big hands pulled at his waist and turned Alec onto his back. A warlock stared down at him underneath a hooded cloak, his power too evident to ignore, but even Alec could see that his skin was pasty from magical exertion. _He’s weak_ , Alec thought. But still Alec could not move.

“Nephilim,” the warlock spat. “You act as if you are all so above us, and yet here you are, unable to fight even me.”

Alec could feel pressure rise on his chest as the popping in his ears grew louder. A scream was caught in his throat as his ribs cracked underneath the invisible weight. He could barely breathe. Alec attempted to reach Jace through the parabatai bond, but felt magic immediately pour over the rune, intense pain blocking his calls.

“I do not know what Magnus sees in you, Lightwood,” the warlock continued, “but you have somehow twisted him. The Magnus I knew would never consort with Nephilim, not even one as pretty as you.”

The warlock then took something out from underneath his cloak. It was a white box, long and thin. He opened it with shaking hands, bringing out a syringe filled with something black. He squeezed the air out of the top, letting some of the black liquid squirt onto the floor. Alec tried to scream once more, but felt it yet again get stuck in his throat.

“I am not sorry for what I am about to do. It is best for Magnus,” the warlock reasoned as he plunged the needle into Alec’s neck. “It is best for the Downworld.”

The needle stung his neck and Alec was powerless to stop it. Within seconds, tiredness began to pull at Alec’s eyelids in waves, as if the sea’s current was beckoning him down into the darkness. It washed over him warmly and it made him want to scream. He knew it was wrong, _he needed to stay awake_ , but it felt so good. Maybe if he kept them closed for a minute, _only a minute_ , he would be fine. His body was broken – his chest felt crushed and his limbs ached – and the offer of sleep called to him like a siren.

 _Only a minute, then I’ll call for help_ , he thought to himself. Only a minute.

He shut his eyelids and swum down.

 

×××

 

It was all a blur, a brushstroke. Memories like film strips. Snapshots. Nothing and everything. He was floating and it was good. His back was cold but hands on his face warmed his cheeks. His mind smiled. Sounds were muffled and he felt fine. He felt like honey dripping off a knife. People were around him, a supercut of _Jace_ and _Isabelle_ and _Magnus_ playing in his brain like a movie. They called to him but he couldn’t answer. And then the pain started.

 

×××

 

The green felt of the pool table underneath his fingertips was cool and soft as he lazily stroked its surface while he watched Magnus take another shot and pocket yet another ball. The smell of beer lingered in the air, along with a hot tension that Alec couldn’t ignore. Magnus was elegant and never let up; he’d played Alec like a fiddle.

The music in the air swung, all syncopated rhythms and sultry baselines mixed with melodic strings and growling guitar hooks. It made Alec sway without him realising, and Magnus couldn’t take his eyes off him the entire time.

Magnus pocketed the final ball. “I win,” he proclaimed, voice laced heavy with something that made Alec weak at the knees.

 _You do_ , is what Alec would have said if he’d had the capacity for speech. Instead, he let his body talk, grabbing Magnus’ waist and pulling him closer. They swayed with the music, forgetting the world, as they stared into each other’s eyes. As if no one was with them, Magnus leaned in to press his lips against Alec’s neck, peppering his deflect rune with small kisses. It made Alec’s nerves tingle and he couldn’t help but smile at the sensation. Alec closed his eyes, savouring the feeling of Magnus, letting him destroy all of Alec’s self control.

Sharply, Magnus pulled back and Alec’s neck grew cold. Something in his stomach turned icy and Alec opened his eyes to Magnus’ feline warlock mark.

“You looked me straight in the eye and lied,” he bellowed, voice turning dark and nothing like the Magnus Alec knew.

“No, Magnus,” Alec tried. “I didn’t, I was trying to keep this burden away from you-“

“Stop it with your lies.”

It was if the air had snapped, and suddenly the pool table, the drinks and the bar began to melt away. Darkness bloomed along the walls, snaking like vines, and a freezing wind whipped against Alec’s body. Magnus was no longer there.

Alec was alone with nothing but black nothingness. He was all alone.

 

×××

 

Fingers run through his hair. He can feel their skin against his scalp, like spiders crawling. It makes him shiver. He can’t stop grimacing. His veins feel like they’re on fire. He wishes he could float, then maybe he wouldn’t have to feel anything anymore. His muscles can’t stop shaking, his heart can’t stop pounding. He’d scream but his voice feels ravaged, like he already has done for hours. He feels wet all over – from blood or sweat or tears he can’t tell anymore, all there is now is pain and wetness. There are frantic sounds, things clinking and bubbling around him. Someone is crying. Someone is gripping his wrist so tight it hurts and he wants to tell them that _it hurts_ but he can’t because everything else hurts _worse_. Someone screams his name and Alec feels himself go under again.

 

×××

 

Alec wakes to golden, silken sheets and a warm body wrapped around his. There is a sheen of sweat against his skin but it feels good, like it belongs there. The soft curtains against the window let in a sliver of sunlight and they turn Magnus’ skin golden. Dust floats in the light; the air is warm and Alec holds Magnus tighter in his arms, kissing the top of his head gently.

His body feels right. He feels as if he’s found his whole. He remembers the parabatai ceremony, the feeling of binding himself to Jace, _for whither thou goest, I will go_ , the feeling of souls completing themselves. But this is different. He’s not a teenager with a crush. He will never feel Magnus’ pain the way he feels Jace’s, and that’s a good thing. Alec has never felt closer to someone. He let himself be vulnerable and Magnus didn’t turn him away.

Alec feels himself fall in love all over again as he watches Magnus wake softly, bleary eyed, smiling to himself at the sight of Alec in his bed, shirtless and all for him.

“Well good morning, Alexander,” he purrs. “I imagine you slept as well as I did.”

Alec couldn’t help but let a smile creep up his face. Magnus leaned over slowly, enveloping Alec in a kiss, hands slipping over his waist.

“I love you like this,” Magnus said in between breathes. “I love you naked, and open, and defenceless.”

Alec cocked an eyebrow at that. “Defenceless?”

“It’s only fair.” The grip Magnus had on Alec’s body became strong and Alec was swiftly pinned against the bed, trapped. “I told you things I have never told anyone…”

Suddenly, Magnus’ voice was drowned out by a high-pitched, piercing note. He wanted to bring his hands up to his ears, but Magnus’ sheer strength made sure this was not possible. Alec thought his ears were bleeding. It was like Azazel all over again.

And then, silence. Magnus had disappeared, along with the bed, the curtains, and the sunlight. Alec was lying on the ground under the cover of darkness, with only the small light of the moon to show dark lines creeping down his shoulders to his arms, the vine-like roots starting from his neck.

 

×××

 

He couldn’t breathe. When he did, it was shaky and it made his throat hurt. He couldn’t swim anymore, he was drowning. There were only the wails of mermaids now. It hurt so much and he wanted it to stop. He’d do anything, he’d give in, he’d give up if it meant the pain would stop.

The mermaids continued their sobbing and he ignored the way someone was furiously shaking his body, their faraway shouts turning into pleading whispers underwater. He took one last gulp of air before the water swallowed him whole.

 

×××

 

He’s back in his office. The lights are low and Magnus is standing before him. His face is full of fury. Alec feels as if his heart has broken in two and he clutches his aching chest in response.

But it’s not just Magnus anymore. Jace is there too, and Isabelle, Max, Clary, Luke, his mother. They all look at him with dark eyes and hard-lined faces. They’re all screaming at him and Alec can’t bare it. The walls are cracked, wallpaper is peeling off, books are strewn and a mirror has been smashed.

_You’ll never unite the Shadow World and the Downworld. We hate you too much._

Their faces contort around their screaming mouths, like melted wax. He can’t stand it, can’t bare the weight of their words. Can’t feel his muscles anymore.

_I’ve never loved you, when the bond breaks it’ll be a relief._

Alec’s insides snap like chalk. He’s coming undone and the faces are laughing at him.

_No matter what you do, it’s always wrong; how can I ever be proud of you?_

There is wetness everywhere, dripping from his nose, his mouth. With all the strength he has, Alec lifts his hands and presses them to his face. He shakily brings them back to see his hands dripping red with blood.

_I guess it runs in the family._

 

×××

 

It was dawn when Alec woke. He knew this because the light pouring through the window was a burning orange, filtering the room in a warm glow. The bed Alec was on was familiar, with sangria-red bedsheets and champagne-gold pillows. Beside him, Jace and Izzy were asleep, Izzy’s head resting in Jace’s lap, who himself was sleeping uncomfortably on one of Magnus’ plush chairs. They’d taken him to Magnus’ loft, because of course they had.

His whole body ached, Alec knew as much as that. He remembered bits and pieces, the alleyway, the warlock, the needle. Anxiously, Alec quickly pressed his fingertips just above his deflect rune, where he had been injected – there was nothing now, it had been completely healed. He breathed a sigh of relief, even though he wasn’t sure why he needed to.

His head hurt a lot, as did his knees, but it was his chest that was causing him the most grief. It was wrapped in bandages, with iratzes poking out from underneath them. Alec was sluggishly picking at the hem of the bandages without meaning to when he heard footsteps from down the corridor. As Alec’s eyes trailed up to the doorframe, it was as if his breath had been stolen right from his lungs. It didn’t matter where Alec was, or what he was feeling, he was always completely taken aback by Magnus.

Magnus stood still by the bedroom door, quietly observing the scene. His body was leant languidly against the doorframe and Alec drunk in his dark clothes, his dishevelled hair and light make-up. His skin didn’t show his exhaustion, but the bend in his posture and weariness in his eyes did.

Magnus’ eyes perked when he realised Alec had finally woken up. “Alexander,” he had started. “Glad you could re-join us in the land of the living.” His tone of voice was faux-jovial and it made a big part of Alec sad in thinking of what Magnus, Izzy and Jace had had to do to save him. Alec smiled in an attempt to assuage any of Magnus’ worries, trying – and failing – to stave off the tiredness in his bones.

His body betrayed him as sleep began to pull Alec’s eyelids down. “’m tired,” he slurred to Magnus, who had begun to walk over to the bed Alec had been placed on.

“It’s okay, Alexander,” he whispered whilst sitting gently next to Alec’s side. Magnus began to softly stroke circles in Alec’s hair, serving only to make Alec even sleepier. His eyes darted across Alec’s face, his neck, his chest, and only made Alec worry more. “Get some rest,” Magnus continued, moving his hand to cover Alec’s deflect rune. “We can talk more about this later.”

There was still something heavy in the air – the argument, the soul sword, whatever that warlock had done to him – but Alec was too tired to ask. He fell asleep with Magnus’ hands in his own.

 

×××

 

That night, Alec dreamed of his bones being crushed and fire licking his skin. He heard his mother cry about how he had failed, how he couldn’t uphold the Lightwood name, how he was never worthy. And then Alec felt a sensation of warmth drape across his skin, as if caressing his soul. _Home_ , Alec thought, _this feels like home_.

 

×××

 

“Look who’s awake,” Isabelle cried out, practically jumping on top of Alec when she saw his eyes open. Alec grimaced as Izzy crushed him in a tight hug which angered his aching ribs, and she pulled away at his low grunt. “Sorry,” she said, her face changing from relieved to guilty in seconds.

“That warlock really did a number on you,” Jace said. He was perched on the end of Alec’s bed trying his best not to let his face show the emotion that was beaming from his eyes. Jace had a funny way of being the least and yet the most emotional shadowhunter Alec knew. Jace was just as relieved as Izzy was.

“Don’t do that to us ever again,” Izzy started. “You had us worried sick.”

Alec smiled. He still felt weak, but he pulled Izzy closer. “How did you even find me?”

“You managed to call out through the parabatai bond,” Jace explained. “I could feel that you were in a lot of pain. We tracked you to one of the alleyways you take on your usual patrol route.”

“You were just lying there,” Izzy continued. “You were so still that at one point I thought you were dead. We managed to get you back here and figure out that someone had poisoned you with demon venom, but…”

Alec breathed in slowly. “But what?”

“You were hallucinating,” Jace stated. “When the iratzes wouldn’t take, we knew it was powerful venom that had been used, something akin to a Greater Demon, but none that Izzy could identify that would cause hallucinations. We then remembered Lake Lyn and what happened to Clary when she inhaled some of the water. We found some residue back at the alley and Izzy had it tested for any of the lake’s properties. It came back positive.”

“We didn’t know what to do,” Izzy said, lingering panic in her eyes as she recalled everything. “The iratzes wouldn’t take, so the hallucinations just kept on going, and your madness meant we couldn’t reach out to you, not even through the parabatai bond.”

Alec rubbed his eyes tiredly. He had felt like he had been drowning – couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, drowning in their voices – and he suddenly understood that he had been losing his mind, not seeing memories. It had all been so real.

“So you called Magnus,” he stated.

“Of course we did,” Izzy said. “He managed to stop most of the demon venom from killing you. He wouldn’t stop trying, even when his magic started to run low.”

Alec could picture it: Magnus leaning over him, magic flowing out of his hands like water and the desperation in his voice if he had decided to ask Isabelle or Jace to share their strength. Magnus had looked so weary earlier. It must have been bad.

And then, Alec remembered: “what about the warlock? Did you guys manage to track him?” Jace and Izzy shared a look.

“You don’t need to worry about him anymore, Magnus took care of that,” Jace said.

Izzy smoothed his bandages around his chest until the edges he had been picking at earlier were flat. “It’s best you ask him what happened, he won’t talk about it with us,” she suggested.

Alec nodded and smiled slowly. Another wave of tiredness crashed over him and he let himself fall back asleep with his siblings by his side.

 

×××

 

Waking up to the bubbling of magic and a noxious smell was more normal for Alec than he liked to admit. Often, Magnus would be up before dawn to prepare potions and spells for his clients, who would walk through the loft’s doors at random hours of the day eager to be in Magnus’ presence. Sometimes they were warlocks simply wanting to stock up on supplies; sometimes they were other downworlders in desperate need of Magnus’ help for a myriad of reasons, everything from healing to protection.

It almost felt like nothing had happened between them as Alec opened his eyes to watch Magnus dance around his workspace, throwing in ingredients from crystal jars, chopping herbs and magicking his potion into a colourful life, chalky blues and reds spurting from his cauldron-like saucepan.

Smiling at his finished masterpiece, Magnus turned to check on Alec, eyes brightening when he saw Alec awake again. “Good morning, Alexander,” he started, face showing only a slight sombreness.

The bandages along his ribcage pulled tight, but did nothing to keep the air inside Alec’s lungs when Magnus looked at him. His hair had been gelled into spikes that stood tall on his head and his eye shadow was simply black, though subtly punctuated with black eyeliner. Magnus kept to a simple colour scheme, opting for a dark purple waistcoat that accentuated the dark magenta spotted shirt he was wearing. His boots were black, practical yet stylish at the same time. He didn’t look weak, or drained, or even a little tired anymore; he looked almost restored.

“How are you feeling?” Magnus asked after Alec remained silent for longer than expected.

“A lot better, thanks to you,” Alec rasped, his throat still somewhat sore. “Izzy and Jace told me what you did and, I know we’re arguing, but I want you to know how grateful I am.”

Magnus’ face turned soft and warm. “Just because we’re fighting, doesn’t mean I’d willingly leave you to die, Alec,” he said earnestly. “Now, I’m going to take your bandages off, see how your ribs are healing,” Magnus explained. Alec nodded, lifting himself into a seated position.

Roll by roll, the bandages slowly unravelled. Alec instantly felt lighter, less like his chest has been wrapped in a snake’s vice grip, and he could breathe easier. Izzy always did tie bandages too tight.

“Well, looks like you’re all healed,” Magnus exclaimed as he threw the bandages to the side. Alec looked down to find his skin light with no bruises. The iratzes had faded away after their use, and Alec traced his fingers on his skin, looking for any last signs of pain.

“Thank you, again,” Alec reiterated and his eyes searched for Magnus’. There was an impregnable silence as Alec and Magnus looked at each other, so much unsaid. Alec wanted to apologise, to drop to his knees and beg Magnus’ forgiveness; he wanted to kiss him, to feel the push and pull of Magnus’ lips against his own, his stubble grazing Alec’s cheeks.

As Magnus began to turn his head away, back towards his work, Alec blurted out, “where are Izzy and Jace? They were here the last time I woke up.”

Magnus turned back to Alec. “They went back to the Institute a couple of hours ago to assist in finding Jonathan. Clary said she may have a lead earlier this morning,” he said.

“Jace and Izzy told me you stopped the warlock,” Alec continued. “They didn’t say how, though.”

Magnus frowned. “Yes, I did deal with him. As the High Warlock of Brooklyn, not only is it my duty to protect my people, but to also protect others from what we can do. Many warlocks in the area had been warning me about a certain warlock, Isaac Entwistle. He’s not the most powerful, but he has always had his ideas and opinions about the Clave, most of which I have agreed with at one time or another.

“But Caterina had told me of his sudden… fanaticism about my relationship with you. He believed me dating a shadowhunter had compromised my leadership, believing me to be unable to make the correct decisions for the greater good of our people.”

Magnus then got off the bed. He started pacing the ground by the foot of the bed.

“He thought I would see more clearly if you were gone,” he continued. “Fortunately for us, he expended so much magic in the spell he had cast upon you that I was able to track him from the energy signals left behind in the air.”

“Even after using so much magic to heal me?” Alec asked, brow quizzical.

Magnus smirked. “Yes, even in my weakened state – tracking is far easier than healing the poison of a Greater Demon.”

Alec grinned. Sometimes he forgot just _how_ powerful Magnus really was. “And what did you do with Isaac?”

“Effectively banished him from all of New York. He won’t be back,” Magnus said with finality.

Magnus unconsciously stopped pacing and instead began to wrap his hands around each other. Realising this, he darted back to his workspace with the intention of pouring the potion that continued to spew some disgusting smell across the room into a small jar.

“I should probably head back to the institute,” Alec said forlornly.

Magnus replied with a nod. “Yes, you probably should.”

Alec sighed. He hated this, hated the space between them. It was like they were oceans apart, calling each other from one tin can to the other, the sound held together by a piece of string and lost to the crashing of waves against the shoreline.

Alec got out of bed and tested his stiff legs. As well as shirtless, he was also pantless, in nothing but his boxers. He spotted his gear in the corner of the room and slipped himself into his black pants, shirt and jacket, and strapped his thigh-holster to his leg. Magnus watched from afar, saying nothing. Alec sighed and then, resolutely, walked over to Magnus before he changed his mind.

“Magnus. You have to know how sorry I am,” Alec said.

Magnus was still facing away from him, still pouring the potion into its jar. It required slow, delicate work, apparently.

“Not telling you about the soul sword was a mistake, I know that now. I thought I had the Downworld’s best interests at heart but… I still have a lot to learn when it comes to what the Downworld needs,” he finished.

“You really do, my young Nephilim,” Magnus finally said, putting down the jar and now-empty pan back on the table. He turned around and pressed his hands against Alec’s arms. “I have to think of my people, Alexander. And you promised total transparency; there will be times where our personal and professional lives cannot be separate.”

Alec frowned and slipped his arms up until his hands were held in Magnus’. How he missed Magnus’ warm skin, the feeling of his soft fingertips despite having lived for so long. Alec lets Magnus trace his palms delicately, as if feeling him again for the first time. “I think I’m starting to understand this will happen quite a bit, won’t it.”

“We both have things we need to learn, and I’m not blameless,” Magnus said. “I was harsh. You’re trying to unlearn all the things the Clave has taught you, and for that you are nothing like your parents.”

“It’s okay, Magnus,” Alec interrupted. “You’ve been through a lot lately, I can’t blame you for getting angry with me.”

Magnus let a small smile creep up his face. “I’m glad you’re alive, Alexander.”

“Me too, Magnus, me too.”

In those moments, Alec let himself be held by Magnus, let himself be pulled in by Magnus’ strong arms and let himself be wrapped in his warmth. Magnus smelled like smoke and flowers. He was solid against Alec, strong and unwilling to unravel himself from Alec’s own grip. They were from two totally different worlds, and sometimes he forgot this, but he knew that, whatever was to come, Alec and Magnus would find each other again.

So right now, they breathed in each other and chose not to let go.

 

×

**Author's Note:**

> the title and opening lines are taken from Maya Angelou’s incredible poem ‘Touched by an Angel’. I’ve never read any of the books and am not planning to, so I hope I got most of the lore right.
> 
>  **warnings** : some mention of injury/violence, but nothing gory; description of drug apparatus and usage against an unwilling recipient.


End file.
